Separate Paths of Samurai Champloo
by Lena101
Summary: Roads separate the strongest of companions, and create bonds between complete strangers. Mugen, Jin and Fuu set out on their different paths to self discovery however years later fate decides to bring them together through sacrifice, forgiveness and redemption.
1. Chapter 1

Her stomach growled fiercely as she stared with hungry eyes at the cargo of "Anago-don" that she was balancing while racing and dodging between the contestants and the chefs. Who were falling behind like usual, trying to feed the competitive eaters who were almost at their victory and limits. She was happy she found a place in Edo, it was one of her favorite places that her and her two companions came by so many years ago. Edo sushi was always her favorite, the fireworks, entertainment and the food wonderland event was especially the highlight of her year. However the food and entertainment wasn't the only reasons she came back to Edo, it wasn't fate as well it was a sorrowful memory one she could not easily ignore or forget.

It was an old friend that she came for, a duty she felt was hers to fulfill, Shinsuke. His mother was left without a care taker after his death and was constantly in Fuus thoughts. She tried her best to get back to Edo however her journey there was not easy and kept her for a few years. She soon realized after she arrived that it wasn't necessary to worry, Shinsuke didn't have friends but he at least had one from his childhood Masatane who heard about his death and came back to Edo to offer and look after his mother, they treated him like family when they were children and he saw Shinsuke as a brother. He traded in Japanese clock-watches, or "wadokei" a Dutch trade he learned from his mentor a shop keeper in Nagasaki and opened the first in Edo.

About a year later his mother married the local doctor Dr. Gorozaemon who began to make house calls now that Masatana could afford better medicine and care. From what she heard Shinsukas mother lived a comfortable and happy life for three years before she passed away giving birth to a miracle baby girl, Yuki meaning blessing. Her age and health was against the odds and her husband wanted to end the pregnancy, she wouldn't allow him and told him "you will have more time to love and care for the part of me I leave behind than you would have had with me". Grief overcame Gorozaemon after his wife's passing he saw Yuki as a reminder that he was the cause of her death and soon left leaving Masatana with the care of a newborn. Masatana only saw her as a blessing and so did Fuus when she took her new duty to Shinsuke and his mother a few months later.

Her new life in Edo was so different, she looked after Yuki, and she got a job at a tea shop not far away from Masatanas shop. She was constantly busy and that's how she preferred it every day, her mind drifted constantly to the memories that shaped her life into an eternal state of longing.

She included them in her daily prayers, praying that they are still alive and in their own ways happy, that they have found new paths and a new direction to travel. After she parted from Jin and Mugen, she was lost, she truly never thought about where she was going to start a new life. She wasn't made from the same stone as them. She wasn't a traveler a warrior or even a bad bodyguard she always thought they both were. They never wanted to settle down, she always wanted a family, however could never really find a man to trust to stay. It was too dangerous on her own and knew if she was going to find a way to get back to Edo, she had to find at least someone who was one of those things she was not. She called herself an idiot for the first time admitting that she's not prepared for an independent life and hated that since she found the courage with Jin and Mugan to leave on a path, she hasn't found it on her own to finish it.

The adventure, excitement and danger would always follow her it was in her blood now, a restlessness and part of her life she would always be thankful for. Her life always had a heading, a purpose since she was still very young. Taking care of her mother and then seeking the Samurai who smelled of sunflowers. Her goals were always chosen for her by fate, just like fate had chosen Jin and Mugen to help her on her journey. As she wandered down a road she was uncertain, she also decided fate would cross her path again.


	2. Chapter 2: The Blacksmith

The pebbles crunched beneath his feet, a steady rhythm that kept him company on his journey. He felt incomplete with the void on his side, the void that he had to fill, the duty as a samurai the one which made a samurai. He headed towards an impossible quest, a quest that was an uncertainty. He remembered a legend one that was told in almost every dojo to the students, some believed it was a fairytale others like himself believed it was possible. He could not understand why he believed, he was always a factual person, there was something driving him forward on this path.

There was once a simple man whose gift and life's passion was that of creating tools of unimaginable potential.

He was a blacksmith in a small township not far from Edo and made flawless and enchanting creations. He lived with his family, his wife and two children a peaceful and isolated life, fulfilling his passion for art while caring for his family through farming. Some people said that he would craft a sword with such skill and feeling, he crafted the weapon with the soul of its owner. The purpose of making it a mirror of the intended owner's skill and purity as a samurai.

The blacksmith never made swords without purpose and sent away many who came without. Strength, power, revenge, money, meant nothing and who ever came to seek a weapon for satisfying or obtaining any of these were sent away with a common weapon, no more and sometimes less.

One day a samurai came to the blacksmith and wanted a master sword to avenge his sensei's death at the hands of his brother, a very skilled and opportunistic student. The blacksmith heard his tale, how his brother stole his own sword while he slept and murdered their master in cold blood. Driving the stolen sword slowly and with intent not to kill but torture into their master's stomach while he slept. As he awoke in agony and with an expression of confusion his brother was, standing over their master staring into his eyes. He began to turn the blade sideways in his hands again and again, laughing with every gush of blood to bubble from their master's mouth.

The samurai awoke the next morning and found a letter from his brother admitting and describing the murder of their master and challenging him to seek revenge.

The blacksmith understood his samurai duty was to kill his brother for betraying their master and maintain their family's name however the blacksmith saw great pain in the samurai's eyes and knew that darkness would soon follow. He denied his request. The samurai fell silent, turned back to the road to find another way for his redemption. The blacksmith felt pity for the samurai, he knew that he was a loyal and respectful samurai but knew he could not make a sword for such an angry death. He closed his door and began hammering away the tragic story of the two samurai brothers.

In the morning the blacksmith awoke to find the same samurai sitting in front of his door, silent and undisturbed by his presence. The blacksmith greeted and questioned the samurai on his intrusion, the samurai still in his unnatural motionless form remained silent. Unfazed and yet confused the blacksmith continued on with his daily routine and returned home by sunset, where the samurai was still perfectly preserved in his form. The blacksmith greeted his wife, who had a puzzled and terrified expression to greet him, the blacksmith said "he will realize his mistake of thinking to proof himself to me through his discipline and will be gone by midnight tonight". Morning came and the samurai was still a statue grounded in place. Morning dew sat on his hair and clothes undisturbed.

The samurai remained for four and a half days without water or food, silent and motionless. The blacksmith started to see his color degrading every day, arteries bulging of thirst, lips cracked and bleeding, skin rashes and sores developing from the scorching sun. He would not move, he couldn't.

The blacksmith started to realize this man, this samurai has only one life purpose now and it's a life where he found peace in his brother's death and then in his own . He went to the fragile and weak samurai and agreed to make his vengeful sword and told him to come back in one year. The samurai stood up silently and started slowly walking down the road.

He built the sword with doubt in his consciousness but with the intent of the sword to only bring peace from chaos. With each hit of the hammer against steel, he put his hope, pity, discipline, forgiveness, courage, faith and respect into the sword everything he wanted this blade to reflect onto the samurai's soul.

Exactly a year later the samurai collected his weapon and it was one of the most gracious weapons the blacksmith has ever created, fast, light, strong and lethal to the touch. The samurai accepted with a bow and uttered I will come back one day to pay you however only if this blade succeeds in what I have to do. This was his first goodbye and gratitude to the blacksmith since they met. He grasped the pitch black handle that had a white lotus flower on the side and drew the sword from its white casing and studied the clear flawless reflection of himself in the blade. The blacksmith mourned to see nothing reflected back its true potential and intended purpose and knew he made a grave mistake.

That was not the last the blacksmith saw of the samurai, years later after the blacksmith had retired from guilt of ever creating such a blade for such a samurai. The samurai returned, although not the same, his soul had disappeared completely into darkness, finally completing his duty and satisfying his thirst for his brother's blood. The samurai never took his own life after his brothers and came to pay back the man who gave him his victory, the blacksmith didn't want his money or gratitude. He asked for his sword, now that it had served the now dark samurais purpose.

The samurai was offended and would not give the sword that sliced so effortlessly every strategically placed cut in his enemies' bodies, to keep him alive and to enjoy the begging and hopeless pleading of desperate and dying men that he came across in his travels. He was too attached to a sword that gave him so much pleasure and power. He told the blacksmith that he could not have asked for a better sword and would like one more day to find a meager replacement so that he is not defenseless. The blacksmith agreed accepting the true horror.

The next day the blacksmith waited and worked until sunset and walked home tired and disappointed, he lost hope for the return of his sword and the samurai. He opened the door to greet his wife and family but instead came across a blank expression that was unfamiliar. Her dark hair clotted with blood hung loosely across her face, her body limp, kneeling over their daughter's blood soaked body that had been sliced across her stomach. The gaping wound screaming out pure pain. The blacksmith rushed to his daughter, immediately pulling her into his arms, knocking his wife backwards.

She felt so light in his arms cradling her like the day she was born, he cupped her face in his hand and looked at her pale complexion knowing he would never see her smile or hear her laugh, would never see joy in her now grey eyes. He forced himself to look down and in horror find he was holding only her torso.

He pulled back suddenly in sorrow and her body hit the floor with a hollow thud. He looked around the room for the remains of his son and found no sign of him, he saw his wife still lying on the floor and started screaming at her, questioning her. She didn't answer it was only then that he noticed his most defining sword protruding out of her back and chest gleaming through the streaks of blood in the moonlight that shone just as sliver through the window.

The samurai was standing in the doorway looking at the sobbing blacksmith and his work of art he created with his most beloved companion. The blacksmith finally notices the samurai threw his tears and starts to curse and scream throwing the kitchen table cutlery at the samurai, he skillfully evades every piece. The blacksmith finally collapses on his knees too tired and emotional to continue. Where is my son? The samurai pulls the little frail boy into the doorway and throws him towards his father unharmed, they embrace each other crying. The samurai asks without hesitation in a low and content voice, why do you think I did this? The blacksmith reply's in a suppressed tone and in rage through his teeth, why did you do this, I gave you that sword hoping you would find peace, I do not understand, I gave you what you wanted, No I gave you what you needed!

The samurai tilted his head and said, you gave me a gift of power, revenge, justice, redemption and when I killed my brother the satisfaction of his screams as I slowly ripped open his chest, his warm blood spilling out onto my hands and the sight of his pitiful soul leaving his eyes was the most peaceful moment of my life. The only way I can repay you is to give you the same gift, you will seek your revenge for your family however I am not ready to die so I will fight you. It will not be that easy, it wasn't for me. Goodbye for now blacksmith.

The blacksmith could not believe what evil he created, he created his punishment and sentenced himself to a cold life of hate and regret. He stood up, sliding the sword from his wife's body and ran to the samurai, stopping just far enough for him to speak clearly. The samurai turned around and said are you ready to die now, leaving your son alone at such a young age. The blacksmith said I am ready to die every day now after what you have done however I will not die at your hands. I will not look for revenge until I have forgiven myself and you samurai for what had happened today. Until my heart is no longer filled with hate, I will not use this sword, it was never its purpose, and it was made for other less evil causes than ours. One day on my death bed I would only then and only maybe then forgive myself, you do not have to worry about your life being taken from me or my son. You can now live your life without purpose, I reject your so called gift.

The blacksmith disappeared with his son after that night, fearing the return of the samurai to maybe try and provoke vengeance from him. The dark samurai disappeared, living his life unfilled and meaningless.

The legend was told in Dojos to inspire the students to one day be skill full enough to even hold such an immortal blade and have the purity of heart to not be affected by power. This is what Jin was searching for, a blade that would reflect his own soul and match his skills, after his own and Mugens swords broke in their final battle. He has not heard of these swords truly existing however if they do the legend of the White Lotus Blade and the blacksmith, was the only lead he could follow.

He heard the blacksmith fled into the mountains with his son, maybe making a life there or joining the monks in their sanctuary to rest his guilty soul. He looked up from the path far into the distance, the white peeks of the giant he was to face resting in the blue sky.


End file.
